


Luna Aurea

by daretogobeyondtheunknown



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 21:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13579515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daretogobeyondtheunknown/pseuds/daretogobeyondtheunknown
Summary: Kara was 11 Springs when her father announced the kingdom of her future betrothed.Whispers spoke of a harsh and untamed kingdom full of big, brutish beasts. Others spoke of a beautiful people, dangerous and deadly, who sought power and to rule the far lands.But none of that mattered until Lucy spoke and the fear of a disfigured form filled Kara's mind, “But what if he is ugly, father? What will I do then?”“Oh my Little Star, beauty must never be the measure by which we hold our merit. But I promise you, your prince will be more beautiful than the moon.”





	1. Kara El - 11 Springs | Lucy Ze - 12 Autumns

**Author's Note:**

> It is not the oath that makes us believe the man, but the man the oath. 
> 
> Aeschylus
> 
>  
> 
> _A holiday gift I wrote quite some time ago._

“I bet he's ugly,” Lucy said through a mouthful of summer ham.

If Kara had not seen it before - the elbows on the table and the sight of half chewed food rolling in her mouth - the act would have surely been repulsive. Her father always said that a proper lady practiced ladylike behaviour at all times, even in the privacy of her own room.

But Aunt Astra was always gentle in her reproach and sometimes, Kara wished her advisors would do the same. Even if it never seemed to work, Kara wished they might try at least once her.

“Dear, please mind your manners. We are at the dinner table.”

“That's probably why no one's seen his face,” Lucy continued on, unperturbed by her mother's remarks, “Sucks you got an ugly one, Kar. Prince James is pretty. And I hear his parents are rich. Maybe your parents can pick him instead.”

Through the clamoring of the adults, a seedling of doubt took hold.

Kara had always followed proprietary. Never had she doubted or questioned the decisions of her parents or the wisdom of her aunt. But now, staring down at the peas still on her plate, doubt churned and Kara wondered if maybe, just maybe, they had been wrong.

-

“But Aunt Astra, I heard he has lepry,” Kara whispered, struggling against the fabrics of her evening gown.

  
“Kara Elizabeth El, stop wiggling,” Astra admonished, “And where did you hear such nonsense from?”

  
“O-o-oh, just, you know, my friends?” Kara withered under the knowing gaze, “L-L-Lucy said it!”

  
Shaking her head, Astra drew the corset draws tight, “Do not listen to your cousin, Little One. Your prince is not ill.”

  
Deflating with each tug, Kara sighed, “But they say he hides his face. Why does he hide his face, Aunt Astra?”

  
With a gentle smile, Astra pressed a kiss to the crown of her niece, “We all have our reasons. Never let anyone swayed you of others, Little One. Even those you love.”

  
-

“You should be in bed.”

Kara kneaded the fabric of her night gown, suddenly far less courageous than she had been marching down the stone halls moments before.

Settling aside the parchment, King Zor motioned his daughter forward, “My child, what is wrong?”

All the confusion and the uncertainty bubbled forth in a slur of words Kara herself could barely comprehend, “LulusaidmyprinceisprobablyuglyandI’venevermethimsomaybeyoucouldpickPrinceJamesinstead!?”

The king blinked owlishly for several moments before offering a soft laugh, “Your mother mentioned young Lucy's words. Come, Kara.”

When her father motioned to his lap, Kara clamoured up. It was rare these days that her father would allow her to sit upon his knee as she once had as a toddler. It was no longer ladylike, he had said.

“Kara, your mother and I understand your hesitance to wed one you have not met,” King Zor spoke just over the roar of the fire, “You must hear many whispers, some well, others not.”

“Yesterday, I overheard the chambermaid's say they are like the savages in the hills.”

Around his gentle smile, King Zor inquired, “And do you believe your mother and father would wed you to savages my Little Star?”

“Oh no father, I do not think you and mother would!” Kara exclaimed, seemingly affronted by the very idea.

“And do you believe we would wed you to someone who would not care for you and treasure you?”

Kara paused, her thoughts racing.

The words her father spoke were wise and they were kind and like her mother's soft smile, it brought a warmth to the tips of Kara's toes.

Since the announcement of the kingdom she would wed, Kara had heard many whispers. Most were of a harsh and untamed kingdom full of big, brutish beasts. Others spoke of a beautiful people, dangerous and deadly, who sought power and to rule the far lands.

It had never bothered Kara until the words Lucy had spoken clung to her like perspiration on a high summer's day.

“I do not think so, father,” the fear of a disfigured form filled Kara's mind and with pleading eyes she turned towards her father, “But what if he is ugly, father? What will I do then?”

The boisterous laughter that filled the room felt warm like the fire, “Oh my Little Star, beauty must never be the measure by which we hold our merit. But I promise you, your prince will be more beautiful than the moon.”

 


	2. Kara El - 13 Springs | Lucy Ze - 15 Autumns

It had grown easy to dampen the rumours that milled about of the Kingdom of Myriad. Her father had increased the time necessary with her advisors and when Kara was not learning the proprieties of a princess and one day queen, she was attending festivities with the neighbouring royalty or the nobility of the Kingdom of El.

For the most part, Lucy had stopped insisting of the deformity of her prince and Kara couldn't help but wonder if it had more to do with the words her father had spoken or with the fascination her cousin had grown for the northern lands.

-

In the mid of summer, a messenger arrived from the north, blood covered and spent.

He spoke of an uprising deep in the mountains: the giants and the savages united. They had pressed the western borders and while the kingdom was well equipped, it would not be enough to push them back into the depths from whence they came.

An army of a hundred were drawn, her father at the helm and Kara watched as they set off into the night.

“Sleep, my child. You are safe here,” her mother spoke softly as she tucked Kara in, an act she had not done for some time.

“And my prince?” The words flowed out unabated, a concern Kara had never imagined she could feel for a human she did not know.

“Your father will do everything he can, to aid your prince.”

When the fires in the north settled some weeks later and word from her father came, Kara wished she could not weep. Her prince had lost his father - brave, even in his dying breaths - and his mother - succumbed to illness and the strains of war.

-

“She is still too young to lead!”

Sleep had been unkind, tormenting and fragile, as of late.

In desperation, Kara had taken to roaming the stone corridors, the cold a welcome reprieve to the sweats and heated skin.

“She must and she will. There is no other choice.”

The voice of her mother and father rang clear and it stilled the rapid beating of Kara's heart in a way she did not wish. Suddenly, the halls were no longer the calm Kara sought and they did not bring the relief they once had.

“You cannot truly mean it. You cannot allow-”

What remained Kara never heard, scampering back into the confines of her bed and the cold furs that awaited. She was afraid. Afraid and terrified for that which would come.

She was not ready to lead.

When her father left at first light, a dozen of his finest in tow, Kara did not understand. But relief settled in her veins and for that moment Kara knew she would live another day unbound by the reality of her blood.

-

“Have you heard? Your prince will soon be a king.”

Kara looked up from her studies with confusion pressed into her brow, “I am sorry?”

“Your prince,” Lucy said, her quill scratching across her parchment uninterrupted, “He's the last one, right? His sister died and now his mother and father? Someone has to be king.”

“But… but… he is only fifteen winters. He is too young to be king!” Kara sputtered, the memories of her parents words rushing to the foreground of her thoughts.

“I thought so too. But mother said responsibility is no respecter of age. He has a kingdom and his people need him.”

 


	3. Kara El - 14 Springs | Lucy Ze - 15 Autumns | Prince of Myriad - 16 Winters

“It is not safe for you to go now,” King Zor said with a finality Kara had not heard since she was five and had refused to greet a visiting royal.

“But, father, plea-”

“I said no, Kara!”

It hurt, the way her father stood, looming, and still only able to see her as his young child and not the young woman he had raised her to be. It was as if he had forgotten, forgotten every lesson he had ever taught her about duty and responsibility.

-

“Have you heard? The Prince of Myriad slayed a horde of giants. Without any help!”

Kara listened to the hushed whispers of her court mates decked in their finest wares.

“I heard he has grown tall and handsome. So handsome it killed the giants.”

It was the late of autumn and the the harvest had come to a close.

As was the tradition, the Kingdom of El opened its halls to the nobles of the surrounding regions. It was a time for festivities and for rest and to recognize the year past.

“I heard he has united several of the neighbouring tribes with only his words.”

It was also a time where the practiced edicate, ingrained daily for hours on end in Kara, grew tested.

Perhaps it was the impoliteness of the whispered words or the oddities of her cousin’s cordiality, but in the safety of the walls of El, Kara suddenly felt angered and unsafe. Nothing felt right and Kara was tired of pretending.

 


	4. Kara El - 16 Springs | Lucy Ze - 17 Autumns | Prince of Myriad - 19 Winters

The convoy was small and Kara felt the unspoken displeasure in her father.

“What is the meaning of this?”

His voice boomed across the hall and all those present grew silent. It had been a celebration, a gaiety of the unity between two kingdoms: an event fit for a king and queen.

And yet, one was not present and the convoy sent in his stead was not quite a dozen strong and certainly not intrigued by the prospect of celebration.

“The heir of Myriad offers their condolences,” the head of the convoy assured.

He was tall, his shoulders broad and his body clothed in an armour unlike any Kara had seen. Its colour was dark like the night skin, etched with patterns that might have spoken of tales; falls and triumphs. The cloak that hung from his shoulders was of a white furred animal Kara had never before seen. His party wore wears similar, their faces obscured by paints of white and red.

All seemed out of place in the fine laces and fabrics of the hall.

“J’onn, we will speak in my study,” motioning to the nearby guard, King Zor commanded, “Show them to the necessary grounds.”

Kara was not welcomed to follow and as the party resumed, she wished the weight of her name did not bind her to stay.

-

Packed only with the lights of her wardrobe, atop a tall steed, in the company of silent companions, Kara felt uneasy.

The passes were closed until the mid of spring making caravan travel near impossible. It had also been explained to her that transporting such goods drew the sights of unwanted eyes and the safety of her transport was of the utmost importance.

“Here.”

Kara felt a heavy warmth press down upon her shoulders, drowning but not unwelcome. Glancing to her side, Kara saw the man her father had called J’onn through the white of the fur.

“Thank you,” Kara whispered, unaware of just how cold she had become.

“ _Dum inter homines sumus , colamus humanitatem._ ”  **[As long as we are among humans, let us be humane.]**  he said softly.

-

It was nothing like Kara had ever imagined.

The city stretched as far as the eye could see, built of stone and nestled in the heart of the towering snow covered mountains.

Unlike the dirt covered streets of the common markets in the Kingdom of El, the streets here were made of smooth stone, cleared of snow for the inhabitants. Children played in the streets, market stalls were left unattended and the warm orange glow mixed with laughter seemed to emanate from every building.

Those they passed paid respect to the warriors, offering them the warmest of returns and for the first time since Kara had watched them stand before her father, their shoulders seemed to drop but a fraction and their lips curled in smiles.

-

The latest rumours in El had spoken of a tall and most handsome prince; of a man who could single handedly slay giants, charm royal delegates and had united old tribes that had long sworn disjunction from all.

What stood before Kara was an enigma.

The crown atop his head was not composed of a metal like her fathers but rather a headdress made of the skull of a beast Kara prayed she would never meet - its snout long and its teeth razor sharp. The blackened horns curled back and an intricate array of black and white feathers shrouded its backside. White fur draped across his shoulders and down the length of his body and the armour was a mixture of black metals and leathers.

Beneath the bone of the headdress was nothing but darkness. Somewhere there might have been pale skin, but Kara was not sure if she had seen it or perhaps, imagined it.

-

“But you are my prince!” Kara objected.

“Not by your choice.”

The voice was low and hoarse and Kara wondered if had always been so. Nothing about it felt right; felt... human.

“Rest, Kara of El. You have my oath, no harm will come to you.  _Meum pactum dictum._ ”  **[My word is my bond.]**

As the doors closed, Kara was left to the drawn bath and warmed bed. A heavy burden she had not realised she carried, tumbled from her shoulders.

-

It was nothing like the courts of El.

Where the Kingdom of El was a show of privilege and the finest silks and opened only to the highest of nobility, the doors of Myriad remained open to all. From the farmers on the outskirts of the northern borders, in to trade their goods, to the most seasoned of warriors, all were welcomed.

And each, Kara noticed, were given a voice, no matter how trivial or mundane: the King of Myriad heard all.

-

“Will I ever know your name?” Kara asked seated for dinner twelve eves following her arrival to the city.

Dinners were simple and something, Kara noticed, the King of Myriad was rare to attend. His advisor, J’onn, had ensured his presence and for that Kara was grateful. However, the distance from the man she had been bound to wed since the age of eleven hurt left Kara wondering what she had done wrong.

“You do not know?” the king asked, genuinely surprised, “What do the people of El call me?”

Without the headdress and heavy armour, Kara noted how simple the heir of Myriad truly was. The wares they chose were a brown leather and a lighter fur settled atop his shoulders. The darkness that had loomed beneath the maw of the headdress, Kara realised, was a mask the colour of the darkest night that covered all but a portion of his face. This one was different than the night Kara had first met the heir - as it allowed for the visibility of dusky lips and the warmest earthy coloured eye.

Swallowing the tender meat cut, Kara realised just how many ways her people had referred to the enigma of the northern kingdom.

“They referred to you as the prince of Myriad. Later, they spoke of you as king. My father and mother also referred to you as such.”

Most Kara decided would be best kept to herself.

“I see. My people call me  _Luna Aurea_. But you may call me Alex. It was the name gifted to me by my parents.”

“Alex?” Kara asked, testing how the name felt across her tongue, “I like that.”

-

“Your coronation shall be in the late of spring,” J’onn said as he escorted Kara to the library. **  
**

“Late spring?” Kara paused.

Winter was still young and if the springs in Myriad were as the springs in El, the coronation would not be for five more months.

Holding the door open, J'onn urged Kara in, “ _Luna Aurea_  wishes the unity be celebrated when the passes are clear. It will allow those not of the city to attend, should they choose.”

“That is very thoughtful of him,” Kara said as she ducked into the room.

It was not of the same grandeur as her father’s study, but its depth held a remarkability all its own. Tomes of all forms filled the shelves and Kara felt an overwhelming rush of excitement.

“Please know until then Princess Kara,  _Luna Aurea_ and the people of Myriad see you as their queen and they will respect your wishes.”

As J’onn turned to leave, Kara called out, “J’onn? Why does everyone call him,  _Luna Aurea_?”

It had seemed such a simple question yet Kara watched as the tall man’s posture shifted and his tone transformed.

All names were gifted for one reason or another. Most often, a name spoke of a tale whether it be from where they came, a circumstance around their birth or the path which it was believed they would one day follow. Yet J’onn had appeared guarded, protective, and perhaps even hesitant.

To Kara, it felt as if he were debating his words.

“Old fables speak of  _Luna Aurea_ , born of the moon and goddess to the tribes of the north. On the rarest of nights, in the deadest of winter, should a golden moon arise it would bridge the space between man and god. A child born of this night, would be a gift from  _Luna Aurea_  and a god among men.”

“So Alex was born under a golden moon?” Kara inquired curiously, “But was there not two? Alex had a sister.”

J’onn bowed low and Kara noted the prominent white marks ever so visible at the base of his skull.

“It is but an old wives’ tale, Daughter of El. You would do best not dwell on it.”

-

“I am so sorry,” Kara apologized, her eyes shut tight.

It seemed foolish, apologizing for having stumbled across Alex in a state of undress. However, Alex had been the most respecting of space and since Kara had arrived to Myriad three months prior, her privacy had always been respected. Kara was never once been forced into the chambers of the king. In fact, Kara had her own, night after night, complete with a warm drawn bath and heated bed. The clothes brought to her daily were either her own, modified for the cold of Myriad, or a set seemingly traditional to the area. As such, Kara had never once seen Myriad’s King outside of his customary court wares or his battle attire.

But when word trickled in of the battalions return, led by a wounded king, Kara had ignored all premise of propriety, rushing to the chambers of the king without thought.

“Please do not be.”

When Alex hissed, Kara gazed on instinct, her breath drawing sharp.

Beneath the layers of armour and fur skins, skin pale like the moon lingered. It appeared soft, gentle, where not marred by a singular scar that stretched from the blade of his shoulder to the opposing side of his lower back and his profusely bleeding collar.

But perhaps more startling than the snowy coloured scar and the mess of blood was the simple fact that he was perhaps more she.

“Alex?”

Brushing aside the worrying hands of the shaman, Alex extended the blood stained cloth toward Kara, “Please? I think there is something we must speak of.”

-

The wound was deep. Kara cleaned what she could but it seemed to do little.

“I was born Alexandria of Myriad. My brother was Alexander.”

Reaching for a rag untouched by the warm blood, Kara wanted Alex - Alexandria or whomever she was - to stop speaking. It made the blood bubble forth faster and her skin grow increasingly pale.

“I should never have lived. Kara, I-”

J’onn brought the searing red hot flat of the blade down upon the bubbling wound and Kara knew it was a cry she would never forget.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Kara turned expectantly to the man she had felt safe in the presence of, “J’onn?”

“She will be fine, Daughter of El. Will you?”

-

“It is gone,” Kara stated when Alex regained consciousness.

It had not been more than half a day but Kara had remained by the bedside of a person she was not so sure she had ever known. J’onn had come and go, tending to the council and other requirements in Alex’s stead.

Noting the confused glaze in the cold silver and warm brown eyes, Kara explained, “Your wound. It is no more.”

“Oh.”

“You aren't human, are you?”

The words tumbled past Kara's lips carelessly and in contradiction to all she had learned. But only part of Kara cared, the part that always sought the praise of her father's voice or the acknowledgement in his posture and he was not here.

“I am. Or am mostly.”

The words of her father, soleum and taut, rang clear and Kara wondered if perhaps he had known. Known that he had given his only daughter away to someone who was not quite human.

“What are you?”

“Broken.”

-

The patrols along the Western front had doubled.

Giants had pillaged several settlements and the oddly organized behaviour of the attacks had drawn the eye of the council. Attacks by giants were not unheard of but their precision was. The giants were not the most mindful of beasts.

Kara had spent the days helping those brought in: their towns burned or their families separated. It was the simplest of ways to both avoid Alex and to avoid her thoughts around Alex.

But it seemed Kara was not the only one giving space. Alex had become as scarce as the summer warmth of El. If it were not for the trailed words heard in the deliberations of the council, Kara might have thought the king dead.

And without the companionship of Alex through the day, Kara had become reduced to the events she stumbled upon rather than the event Alex had once invited her to.

“Did you know,  _Luna Aurea_ , was not the only god?”

Kara startled, wrapping the bandage a tad tighter than she had expected.

J’onn settled down an elderly woman on the makeshift bedding, “ _Lupus Albus_  ruled over the beasts of the mountains, his form that of a monstrous white wolf.”

“That is all very nice J’onn but-”

“Unlike  _Luna Aurea, Lupus Albus_  loathed the people of the north. More than that,  _Lupus Albus_  loathed  _Luna Aurea_. One day, two children of  _Luna Aurea_ , fraught with adventure and excitement and too far from home, stumbled across his path. Only one survived, marked for all eternity and their senses poisoned by the beasts.”

She might have imagined it, but Kara swore his eyes shone silver and his skin white.

“Myriad does not see a king and it does not see a queen. The people of Myriad see a child, born of hope and filled with promise. They see life where there should be death. They see love where there should be hate. Myriad has always known of the children of  _Luna Aurea_  and of their fate and they have chosen to love them regardless.”

“So why did my father and the kingdoms surrounding El not know?” Kara accused, tired of the tales and of the lies.

“You father always knew, Daughter of El. What he chose to tell you was another.”

 


	5. Kara El - 17 Springs l Lucy Ze - 17 Autumns l Alex of Myriad - 19 Winters

The passes had opened late and with the unsettled borders to the west, the coronation had been pushed back to the solstice of summer.

In that time, Kara had turned another season, celebrating in the late spring melt. Those who could attend, celebrated her like the queen she was not.

Over heated words and great reluctance, J’onn had remained within Myriad. It was not where he had wanted to be, steadfastly loyal to Alex in a way Kara could not understand. And he was not alone. One after another residents of Myriad and many from the surrounding regions had stepped forth, all ready to serve a man - a woman - who was nothing but a facade.

“Your cousin has arrived,” a messenger presented, disrupting Kara from her thoughts.

“Thank you, Vasquez, please see her in.”

-

“So this is what the forbidden wastelands of the north are like.”

Kara had not realised how much she had missed the forward nature and steady drawl of her cousin. With a heave, Kara collapsed into the awaiting arms.

“It’s alright, Kar. I’ve got you.”

-

“To our welcomed guests, King Zor and Queen Alura of El,” J’onn toasted.

In place of raised glasses, the citizens of Myriad hoisted high a closed fist, a sign of solidarity and welcome among the tribes of the north.

Alex had not returned from the mountains and part of Kara twinged in yearning. In the months since her arrival, Kara had grown used to the reassuring presence of the armor clad warrior by her side. Until her discovering, Kara had felt the security and peace that had grown increasingly difficult to find within the walls of El.

“To the gracious welcome from the Kingdom of Myriad,” King Zorel returned, raising his glass high.

-

Word had arrived when the moon stood tallest in the sky.

Unable to sleep, Kara was buried deep in a book she had found wedged under the high stack on the table’s edge of the library.

Written in a language Kara knew not, she had enlisted the help of Vasquez in deciphering its text. The very act calmed her thoughts, stilled her heart, and though it was temporary, Kara sought it just as a drunkard sought wine.

J’onn stood before her, abnormally rigid, “ _Luna Aurea_ has returned.”

Dread rang through Kara like the winter chill she had grown to know well. Words Kara had spent many a nights forming withered into a darkness she could not follow.

“She wishes to speak with you.”

-

When Kara had first entered the chamber, her only thought had been that of safety and of assurance. Now, long before the rise of the sun, by the light of candles and a roaring fire, Kara noted the intricacies she had missed.

Across the entire far wall, stretched a mural. In the light of the moon, it glittered and appeared to shift with the soft breeze. From the mountains to the plains to the coasts far in the south, Kara realised its significance. It was a map more far reaching than any Kara had ever seen and far more real.

Books stacked neatly atop a desk tucked in the corner accompanied more parchment than Kara ever hoped to use.

Before where Kara had smelt only blood, now lingered the scent of honeysuckle and burning pine.

“Kara of El,” Alex greeted, bowing respectfully from the arch that joined to the balcony, “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Is that not what a queen does: answer to her king? Or I suppose you, in this case.”

Kara knew it was childish and foolish to press her luck. But part of her could not resist, the rebelliousness bubbling to the surface in great bounty.

“I have upset you,” Alex said with a defeat Kara had never before heard, “You have every right to feel so.”

Following the downturned gaze, Kara noticed a small parchment, rolled and wrapped in silver ribbon. On it bore the seal of Myriad, a seal Kara had only ever seen on the documents of the court.

“The coronation will proceed as arranged. It was an oath: from my father to yours. Had Alexander lived, it would have been he you wed. He was the kindest of souls.”

It was unmistakeable the sorrow that lingered, even years past.

“You will have your freedom - from the duties to Myriad and her people, from the obligation of fealty. It is bound, written before the council and sworn.”

Turning back from whence she came, Alex gave one last smile, unmasked and unbridled, “Myriad will see to all you need. She will ask nothing in return and hope for your health, your jubilation and your eternal warmth. Myriad is blessed by you, Kara of El.  _Mea anima est cum te. Nostra animae sunt cum vobix_.”  **[My heart is with you. Our hearts are with you all.]**

-

“How can she just- She cannot-“

“Oh no, she can and she did,” Lucy said with a low whistle.

Turning to face the prone form of her cousin draped over the comforts of her bed, Kara scowled, “You are not being helpful.”

Even if Lucy had never been the model of propriety, she had been the solidity Kara needed. The way she spoke, the way she moved, none of it changed. Even in the face of Aunt Astra’s death – her own mother - Lucy had been the stability Kara had never known she would need.

“Kar, way I see it, I am,” Lucy motioned to the parchment Alex and the council had approved, “You can literally do anything. Crazy moon lady just gave you the seal of approval to literally do whatever you want for the rest of your life.”

“She is not a crazy moon lady,” Kara correct, unconsciously, “What?”

Shaking her head, Lucy shrugged, “Dunno, maybe the fact that out of everything I just said, you only heard the crazy moon lady part.”

Heaving a sigh, Kara collapsed into the top fur, its coat silky against her skin. Once, she had made passing mention to Alex how some of the furs had felt coarse, abrasive against her sensitive skin as it adjusted to the changes of Myriad. Ever since, only the softest of furs had ever been used in her gowns or for her bedding.

“Oh Kar, you got it bad.”

-

Kara had settled for a gown traditional to that of Myriad.

It had never been her intentional however the way it had melted the tension strung taut like a bow in the shoulders of Alex and the soft smile it had earned from J’onn pressed into her mind for days to follow. It had disappointed her mother and perhaps even more, her father.

“But dear, it is a tradition for all those before you.”

Smiling at her reflection in the smooth surface upon the wall, Kara shrugged, “ _Variatio delectat_.”  **[There is nothing like change.]**

-

The streets had dawned colours of reds, whites and the gentlest of blues.

Incoming tribes had nestled in among those of Myriad, welcomed with open arms. Those who could not fit had settled just outside the city walls. Warriors aided farmers and peasants feasted alongside tribal leaders. Even Alex - an apparent god among men - had opened every unused space of her keep and had chosen to spend many of her waking hours walking among the streets to personally greet those who had come.

The nobles from kingdoms south of El and along the sea wall to the east all seemed oddly out of place - rigid and boisterous - and Kara realised, her coronation had never been meant for the nobility.

It had been an oath, forged in the dead of winter between the tribes of the north in the greatest of sanctities. Her coronation was the unspoken promise of devotion to a leader born of the moon who in her human fragility had shown strength, endurance and unrelenting devotion.

Drawn into a warm embrace by a woman Kara did not know, offered flowers and whispered prayers, Kara sobbed.

_Luna Aurea_  had chosen to protect so many ceaselessly and of all Alex could chose to stand by her side, she had forever promised it to Kara: unassuming and unwavering.

-

“Why do you do this?” Kara exclaimed as she barged into the chamber.

On the eve of the coronation after a simple dinner alongside Alex, Kara had grown tired.

It was always unconditional, it was always Kara and it had long ago grown unfair. Everything Alex had done had remained as it had since Kara had arrived and Kara hated it. She was supposed to remain angry - forever - against a  _woman_ who had lied to her and who had let her care under all the wrong presumptions.

“Kara of El,” Alex greeted, seated next to the fire in apparent discomfort.

But none of it matter - the inclination of her voice or the tension in her body - as Kara pressed on determined for answers, “Why do this? You gain nothing. Tell me!”

“Please?” Alex asked, motioning to the empty space before her.

Kara paused, suddenly hesitant.

The bare stone before the fire had been covered by what appeared to be the furs of the bedding and against the stone frame of the hearth, Alex had nestled herself; pale and in what appeared to be a great deal of pain.

“Ale-”

“It was not untrue when I said I was broken. But that is not the answers you seek.”

Settling upon the fur brought a degree of calm to the tremor of Alex’s skin, Kara noted still cautious not to seat herself too close.

“I had always thought Alexander would bear the weight of  _Luna Aurea_. While he was calm, serving and humble, I was mischievous, in search for the newest adventure. I had begged him to go deep into the mountains. I had told him it was safe.”

In her time in Myriad, Kara had heard many tales of  _Luna Aurea_  and her children. It amazed her how she had never pieced together which child had passed, the answer always present in Myriad, never masked.

“It was meant for me. But Alexander... A beast, forsaken by  _Lupus Albus_ , arrived too late to aid Alexander. As I recovered, I swore my life to that which he had loved: life. Alexander loved without condition, even the ill or deformed,” Alex smiled no matter the sweat that beaded from her brow, “He had dreamt to unite the tribes of old and lead alongside them, never from behind.”

The fire spat and crackled and Kara felt thirteen springs once again when she had wept for a prince she had not known.

“At first, it had been an obligation. But with time, it became an honour to know even a fraction of you and I believed in earnest in your kindness and the unseen potential you hold. It was not a lie, Kara of El, that Myriad is blessed by your presence.”

There was a depth to the words Kara could not understand, the same depth she had felt in the streets of Myriad and in the company of its people. Whether it was the pauper or the counsel, it had always been present like the swell of her chest as it drew breath.

But perhaps she did not need to understand. 

The prince of Myriad had been the enigma Kara had spent years preparing for: preparing to love without reservation or restriction. She had been prepared to sacrifice everything and yet Alex had never once asked. And perhaps she had broken Kara’s trust but as she wipe away the tremor in Alex’s brow, Kara realised she was ready to begin that healing process, “I am sorry. Please, rest now.”

Exhausted, Alex slipped into sleep, her brow uncreasing and her body easing.

Silently, Kara withdrew the roll of parchment tucked into the folds of her gown, the seal of myriad glowing in the light of the dying embers, “Tomorrow is a new day,” she whispered as the parchment burned in a blaze of beautiful reds, oranges and yellows.


End file.
